


One Night In Riften

by the_technicolor_whiscash



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Amnesia, dragonborn oc, first person POV, trying to find memories
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 00:24:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10910514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_technicolor_whiscash/pseuds/the_technicolor_whiscash
Summary: An Argonian dragonborn wakes up one day with no memories of who he is. He goes on a quest to discover his memories, his home, and what he truly values in life.





	1. Reintroduction

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm not going to lie to you I wrote this story because my dragonborn Jimothy the Conqueror is awesome and one time I met Sanguine and he gave me this cool staff so I was Inspired

I awoke with a start, to find myself with a splitting headache in a bed that wasn't mine. A woman sat at the end of the bed and shook her head once she realized I was awake.   
“Oh, dear. You must've had quite a night.” She said. I recognized the robes she wore, signifying that she was a priestess of Mara.   
I scratched my scaly head and muttered, “What happened? I don't remember.”  
“You came stammering into the temple, saying you had just met the daedric prince Sanguine, and then passed out on the ground.”  
I tried to rack my brain, but I couldn't remember what had happened. Then, I began to realize something which terrified me. I couldn't remember anything. I could recognize things, and speak, but I couldn't remember anything else. All I knew was my name, and that here wasn't my home.   
“I don't remember that. I don't remember anything.” I stammered. I began to panic. “Please, do you know what happened?”  
“I’m sorry. I only know what I told you. But you did have some belongings on you. Maybe those will provide you with some answers.”  
She walked over to a chest of drawers and pulled out a bundle of armor, weapons, and other items and handed them to me. I flipped through some of the letters, hoping that they might give me a clue as to who I was. But most of the letters I must've taken off of others, because they weren't addressed to me. It was a few minutes into searching that I finally found a letter with a name that seemed to be mine.   
“Jimothy. That's my name. Jimothy the Conqueror.” I said. It sounded right coming from my lips. It was a name I must've said many a time before, but I could not remember when.   
The woman nodded. “Well, I’m Dinya Balu. I’m a priestess of Mara here at the temple. You can stay here for longer if you'd like, until you can regain your bearings and whatnot.”  
I shook my head. “No, it’s best if I get going soon and try to retrace my steps. But I thank you for all of the help you have given me. Is there anything I could do for you in return?”  
“It was the least I could do. All I ask is that once in a while, you try to spread the word of Mara.”  
“I will.”   
Dinya left, and so I put on all of my armor and gear and walked out of the temple. It was a dark, gloomy day in Riften, but then again, I don't think it was ever that much different. Though I could be wrong. Dinya had mentioned that I had said something about meeting the daedric prince Sanguine, so I figured if I found him, it might lead me to finding the source of my amnesia, and recovering my memories.   
As Sanguine was the prince of debauchery and mischief of basically any kind, I decided the pub would be a good place to start looking. Of course, I didn't remember anyone's names, nor anything I had done, so I had to hope I didn't do anything terrible to anyone, else I get a knife to my chest.   
The pub was just as dark and gloomy as it was outside, and though it was early in the day, there was already a number of people drunk or just about to be. A bard played the lute sadly in the corner, adding to the unhappy atmosphere of the place.   
I went up to the bartender and cleared my throat. “Excuse me, but did I come through here recently?”   
The bartender smirked. “You had a drinking contest with this asshole, and once you won, he and you ran out of here, yelling about how you two were going to go kill a dragon or something.”  
I sighed. “Sorry for any raucous I may have caused.”  
“You kidding me?” The bartender laughed. “That was the most excitement we’ve had here in months! Which probably says more about this town than it does you.”  
“Well, thanks.” I was about to leave when I paused. “Any idea where I might find a dragon around these parts?”   
“Yeah, there's an old burial ground a ways’ north from here. Think that's where you went?”  
“It's a possibility.”   
I left the pub and headed north, hoping to find any sign of anything I might've done. There was a smattering of animal carcasses here and there, but probably left by hunters and not a drunken Argonian chasing a dragon.   
When I finally reached the dragon burial ground, I immediately noticed two things. One, there was no dragon, and two, there was an enormous skeleton which probably was a dragon at some point in the past. It was quite a sight to behold. The bones seemed to have been picked clean, but there was no marks on them, and they seemed fairly new. More modern than the draugrs you would find in a cave. Suddenly, I heard a noise in the woods. I whipped around and pulled my sword out, preparing for what might appear…  
“Jimothy!” Said the figure that burst out of the woods. “What a night we had last night!”  
The man (at least I assumed it was a man) was at least eight feet tall, and wore ornate, darkly colored armor. His face was blood red, and he seemed to have horns of some kind poking out of his head. Not like any other person I had ever seen.   
“Who are you?” I asked, not lowering my sword.   
“Oh, you probably don't remember last night.” The figure laughed. “Right, that's my bad. Don't worry, you didn't kill anyone other than this dragon here.”  
I frowned. “Wait a second. Are you Sanguine?”  
“In the flesh.”   
I sheathed my sword, but I didn't let my guard down. This guy was clearly not to be trusted. “What the hell happened?”  
“Well, I challenged you to a drinking game, and you accepted, and then we both got shitfaced, and then you claimed to be the dragonborn, and I said no way, so you said you were going to prove it by killing a dragon and absorbing its soul, and so I said fine do it, and so then we went up on that hill and killed that dragon, and then you absorbed its soul, and I was like no way, and you were like yes way, and then we went back into Riften, fucked around for a bit, and eventually you decided to go to the temple of Mara, but Mara’s not my style, so I went home.”  
I frowned. “But there's still one thing that that doesn't explain. I don't have any memories. At all. I have no idea of who I am from before I woke up an hour ago at the temple of Mara.”  
Sanguine looked surprised. “Ooooh, that's bad. That's really bad. It's probably a side effect of the booze we drank. Your memories might come back, but there is a slight chance that they'll be lost forever. Give it a few days, and if they don't show up then, they probably won't ever show up.”  
I balled up my fists. “You mean to tell me, you got me so drunk, that there's a chance I might never remember who I am?”  
He took a step back and held up his hands. “Listen, I’m not the one who agreed to a drinking game with a random stranger you just met in a pub.”  
I glared at him. “Oh, so this is my fault now? I'm not the one asking random strangers if they want to participate in a drinking contest!”  
“Good point. Listen, why don't we just put all of this behind us, shake hands, and part as friends.”  
I had two paths I could go here. The first, where I accept his offer for peace and try to find my memories on my own. Or the second, where I demand he helps me find my memories, or at least helps me find out where I actually live.   
I decided on the second path. “No way. You're going to help me find my memories, and we’re going to start by finding out where I live.”  
Sanguine looked at me, and for a moment, I worried that he was going to murder me. But then he chuckled. “Sure thing, kid. I'll help you figure out who you are. I like you. You've got moxie.”  
I wasn't about to question him, nor ask what moxie was, so instead I nodded my head. “Alright. Good. Now, where should we start looking for my house?”  
“Whiterun’s always a good place to start.”


	2. Remembrance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jimothy and Sanguine arrive in Whiterun, not knowing that two very important somethings await Jimothy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually really liking writing this like this is fun

Whiterun was one of the smallest cities in the province, but it had its charm. The people were less rough than they were in Riften, and usually far more trustworthy. The streets were less dangerous, though it did have its issues.   
Sanguine suggested we speak to the Jarl, so we visited him first. I felt as though I had definitely met the Jarl in the past, but I couldn't remember when, or why. It would certainly lead to some awkward conversations.   
The Jarl reclined on his throne, smiling when he saw me. “Thane Jimothy. Here to save the day again?”  
“This may be a bit of an odd question, Jarl.” I paused. “But have I bought property here? I've… lost the deed to my house, and I cannot remember where I bought it.”  
“You can't remember where you bought your own house? Must've been a rough night.”   
I glanced at Sanguine, who stood silently beside me. “You could say that.”  
The Jarl seemed amused by the whole situation. “Yes, I do believe you purchased a house here. Breezehome, if my memory serves me right.”  
I nodded. “Thank you, my Jarl. I'll be going, then.”  
“Glad to help.”  
Sanguine and I proceeded to Breezehome, a small house, but it seemed cozy enough. I remembered some things about it, like the fact that I had recently added new furniture into the loft, but I felt that there was still something missing from my mind. I soon discovered what that was.   
“Papa!” A child’s voice yelled as I entered the room. “Who's your friend?”  
Memories came flooding back of my children. Lucia I had adopted from Whiterun, as she had been a homeless orphan. Blaise had been an orphan living on a farm until I had adopted him. I also had a dog, Vigilance, who was the family pet.   
“Lucia! You're a sight for sore eyes, my daughter.” I said, picking her up in a hug. “Where’s your brother?”  
“Blaise is outside playing with his friends. Want me to find him for ya?”  
“That would be wonderful.” I put her down, and she dashed out the door.   
“Nice kid.” Sanguine said. I tried to guess what was going through his head, but his face seemed to retain the same expression no matter what. “Memories coming back to you?”  
I nodded. “Some. Not all of them, though. I still don't remember a lot, though. Like what I was doing before I came to Riften.”  
“Oh, I can actually help you with that one. You were stammering drunkenly about how you were trying to get out of the Dark Brotherhood, and that you were doing your best to cover up your trail from them.”  
Right. That whole… thing. “Shit. That's right. We can't stay here for long, then.”  
“If I might ask, why are you trying to get out of the Dark Brotherhood? Most people would die to become a member, or at least stand in awe of the organization.”  
“A plot was unfolding to kill the emperor. The Brotherhood normally tries to stay out of political things, but their leader figured it would make the society more respected. More feared. And they wanted me to help them to do it. So I left. I haven't been on the run from them for very long, though, so hopefully they haven't noticed that I'm actually running.”  
Sanguine seemed to ponder that for a moment. “Well, if they ever cause you any trouble, call on me to help you. I can be very persuasive.”  
Something about this just didn't sit right with me. “What's your real motive for helping me? It's definitely not because I have moxie, as you said. So what's the deal? What do you want from me?”  
Sanguine sighed. “It's a long and convoluted story, that starts with the fact that I cannot stand Ulfric Stormcloak. So I decided to align myself with the other dragonborn, you, so as to basically tell Ulfric to shove it up his ass.”  
“Why do you hate Ulfric Stormcloak?”   
“Because, the son of a bitch believes, for some unknown reason, that the other Daedric Princes and I are merely myths. Many of us have tried to knock it into his oversized head that we are, in fact, real, and quite powerful, but he will have none of it.”  
I pursed my lips. “So what you're saying is, it's a matter of ego.”  
Sanguine nodded. “Yep. Sounds about right.”  
“Wonderful.” I muttered. This was not what I needed. An ally who was only there for his own gain would undoubtedly turn his back on me at one time or another.   
The Daedric Prince seemed somewhat hurt by my reaction. “Why, you don't trust me, do you?”  
“No, I don't, Sanguine. And I have every right not to trust you.”  
“Listen, I didn't…”  
Before he could continue, Lucia burst into the house, dragging Blaise behind her.   
“Hiya, Popa!” Blaise yelled. “Did you bring me anything?”  
I smiled. “Of course, my son.” I reached into my bag and pulled out a wooden sword. “Here you go.”  
Blaise took it and laughed excitedly. “Wow, my own sword! Thanks, pops!”  
“Hey, you didn't give me anything!” Lucia pushed Blaise out of the way. “And you never said who that guy was!”  
I momentarily glared up at Sanguine before reaching into my bag and pulling out another wooden sword. “I would never forget to bring a gift for my favorite daughter.”  
She took the sword and laughed. “But papa, I’m your only daughter!”  
I smiled. “Why, that's the point!”  
Blaise tugged on my arm and pointed up at Sanguine. “Papa, who even is he?”  
“That, my children, is Sanguine.” I sighed. “He’s… a friend.”  
“Like, the Daedric Prince Sanguine?” Said Lucia.   
Sanguine nodded. “Yes, exactly like that.”  
Both of the children seemed to be amazed at meeting such a mythological figure. And I couldn't blame them. If I hadn't known Sanguine, meeting him would have been awe-inspiring. But don't tell him I said that.   
“Alright, kids, papa has to go.” At their fallen expressions, I smiled sadly. “I'll be back soon, though. Don't worry.”  
They hugged me at the same time, and we parted wordlessly. I felt a tear come to my eye as Sanguine and I proceeded to exit Whiterun. I forget who said that ‘parting is such sweet sorrow’, but whoever said it was right. Part of me wanted to turn around, to just settle down in Whiterun with my children and dog, maybe start a small business. But that would put not only myself, but my children in danger, and so at this point in my life, settling down was just not an option.   
“I believe we left off on the wrong foot back there, Dragonborn.” Sanguine said after some time. “I merely didn't understand why you didn't trust me. But after thinking on it, I understand why. Heck, I don't even think I would trust me.”  
I nodded. “Well, I was a little rude too. It just took me some time to realize that your motives are far different from mine.”  
“Well, they're not entirely different. We both aren't fond of dragons.”  
“True. But you know what I mean.”  
“Yes, I do.”  
For a minute, we walked in silence.   
“Just out of curiosity,” Sanguine said suddenly, “do you have any idea where we’re going?”  
Riiiiight. I hadn't formulated a plan for what to do after we found my house. Large gaps in my memories were still missing, and I was pretty sure I owned property in some other city too. But the only way to find out was to try to retrace my steps. Except I couldn't remember my steps. So it was a blind shot in the dark.   
I pulled out my map and analyzed it for a minute. I got a strange tingling that Markarth was somewhere I didn't want to be, and that even by this point I'd still never been to Windhelm. So I figured my best bet was to start off in Falkreath, which seemed familiar enough to me.   
“Falkreath. I seem to remember something there, though I'm not quite sure what. And we should avoid Markarth. I'm pretty sure someone accused me of murder there.”  
“Right. Well, lead the way, Dragonborn.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also this is based off of true encounters I've had. People actually accused my dragonborn of murder in Markarth. I now stay out of Markarth.

**Author's Note:**

> I also titled this fic after the song one night in Bangkok except with Riften instead of Bangkok which shows you how unoriginal I am with titles


End file.
